Average Gestation
by Kolinshar Benito
Summary: The average gestation for a human baby is 37 to 42 weeks. /Chapter 2 - To abort, or not to abort: that is the question./
1. Three Weeks Later

**Average Gestation**

_3 Weeks Later_

By: Kolinshar Benito

Haruhi slowly placed the white plastic stick down on the bathroom counter top. It was neatly laid beside a row of three other similar devices; all of which chemically reacted to the hormones now appearing in trace amounts in her urine.

No, she corrected herself silently. _One_ specific hormone.

hCG. Human chorionic gonadotropin.

The glycoprotein's name came to her mind effortlessly, as she sat on her toilet seat contemplating what it is she should do. Her eyes caught the blue cross of her final pregnancy test. It was the same shade as the grain freckled bar of soap that sat a little ways away from it, safely nestled in its plastic tray.

She rested her left hand upon her lower body, and lifted her shirt to stare at her abdomen. Slowly, she caressed her skin, her fingers feathering thin, sparse hair that lightly littered her skin. She had never considered herself a hairy individual, but it seemed like she was suddenly hyperaware of her body.

The words _zygote, morula, _and_ blastocyte _filtered through her head as her hand stopped a few inches above her groin.

A finger now lightly circled her belly button. The nail that was grazing her skin had raw, rippled edges – a testament to a habit she had regressed back into. Her other hand's thumbnail was grating against her teeth. She had unfortunately returned to an unhygienic childhood habit in the last few months, her nails being chewed down to grubby bits. She imagined her father to wail tragically at the malformation she was inflicting upon herself.

She pulled her hand away from her mouth at that thought.

She resolved within herself to make sure that the only thing her father would be wailing about, in terms of any physical changes happening to her body, would _only_ be about her nails.

Drumming her fingers on her knee, she pulled her shirt back down to her waist.

Warily, and with a light touch, she quickly gathered the urine-contaminated plastic sticks lying on her bathroom counter top. They joined the wrappings they had come out of in the garbage.

She needed to find a book. A quick venture to the university library would be in order.

--------

She quickly shut the book on her hand, with her fingers serving as a book mark. The blood draining from her face, only one thought echoed through her mind:

_Oh __**hell**__ no._

She slowly opened the _Maternal and Child Care Nursing_ textbook once more. Should anyone have looked at her at that precise moment, they would have concluded that her face would forever be permanently etched in a look of abject, painful horror.

Step by step, fully coloured, high resolution, half page pictures of the birthing process lay before her. A Caucasian woman, whose carpet clearly did not match the drapes, was spread before her. Literally _spread _before her. Large, cellulosed legs were spread wide open as an alien covered in what looked to be like cream cheese was spat brutally out of her vagina.

Nope.

No more looking at books for her today.

* * *

_To be continued._

_AN:_ _Haruhi strikes me as a particularly self contained woman. She's rational, and within the series, is a person who thinks before acting. I don't imagine her to go into hysterics upon finding out that she's pregnant._

_This is a series of shorts._

_I hope you enjoy what is to come._

**K.**


	2. The week she thought about her options

_Dedicated to__** Lady Kugatsu, Shards-of-Wishbone, mizzshy,**__ and__** SailorPikaAngel **__for being the first reviewers. I'm glad for your comments, and welcome your future input! =D_

* * *

**Average Gestation**

_Chapter 2: The week Haruhi thought about her options._

By: Kolinshar Benito

* * *

In the days following her chemical strip revelations, Haruhi continued her typical day to day schedule. She never really lived an unhealthy lifestyle to begin with, and she didn't see a reason to alter it -- even with her current _circumstances_. She ran for thirty minutes on the athletic track every day before rushing back to her apartment at the student housing complex an hour and a half before her first class.

For fifty-five minutes, she would quickly review the previous classes' lecture notes, and reread the current day's PowerPoint outline. In the subsequent following ten minutes, she would make her way to a classroom of ugly, multicoloured lecture theatre seats. She resolutely chose a chair three rows away from the front. It was a well known fact that her professor had a tendency to spit as he lectured. After learning that particular lesson the hard way, she chose a pea green seat to seek higher ground; she was at enough a distance to avoid her professor's range of attack.

A honey-haired student (she had never remembered his name after he first had introduced himself) sitting in a mustard yellow seat would occasionally strike up a conversation with her before class began. He always sat two seats to her right, and she had only ever recognized him by the large, electric blue frames that rested on his face. Once, he had worn contacts to class and had tried to speak to her, and she had only managed recognize him by his voice.

After this period, she ate lunch.

During this two hour break, she sat upon the benches on the second floor to attain a level of silence that can only be found on library floors as she read _Property Law, Cases, and Commentary (2__nd__ ed.) _and quietly ate a rather simply meal, usually onigiri.

Three more hours of lecture followed her lunch period, and she always looked forward to her final class. _Global Ethics 261 _was always interesting to listen to.

The class was fairly interactive; the most talkative one she had. It began with a fairly structured forty-five minutes of solid presentation of facts and principles. The last half was a talking session on the discussion at hand.

The student with Blue Frames, for lack of a better name, was also in this class. He was arguably the most talkative student she knew of this semester.

Haruhi, on the other hand, could perhaps win the student award for _Most Silent_.

"So what would a person against abortion argue upon?" The question came from a wiry old Japanese man standing at the front of the classroom. The overhead lights reflected off his bifocals in a rainbow-stained gleam.

"Killing an unborn child is equivalent to murder," a redheaded female called from the audience.

The professor nodded to acknowledge her comment. "That is a standpoint many pro-life activists state within their platform. A consensual agreement amongst them is that life exists upon conception. However, many may not consider this true, as some do not believe life begins until later on in the birthing process."

"But isn't abortion justified in some sense? A lot of people argue in favour of the woman's choice. Like, what if a girl was raped and got pregnant? Who's to say she has to keep the baby of a man who violated her?" A pony-tailed brunette from the audience responded.

Some students visibly shook their heads in disagreement, while others murmured a similar standpoint.

"Yeah, and also, what if having the baby could possibly kill her? Like, somehow they figured out that having this baby would probably kill her in a medical test or something. Wouldn't it be better to abort the child so the mother could 'live to fight another day'?" another student contributed.

Haruhi sat particularly straighter at that comment. Her stomach did a little flip-flop at the thought.

"But life is life," another argued. "How can one be allowed to judge one person's life over the other? The life of the fetus over the mother?"

Her legs began to shake up and down in anticipation as an inexplicable amount of pent of feeling began to surface. Her heel made a muffled tapping noise against the concrete floor in quiet nervousness.

For the first time, she found herself wanting to speak.

She opened her mouth but was quickly interrupted before the first word came out.

It was Blue Frames who spoke. "But who's to say death isn't a better choice for the baby? What if it was tested and found to have a chromosomal abnormality? I mean, I know that some women abort if the baby was tested to have Down syndrome or something."

There was shifting in the audience at the touching of a rather delicate scenario.

Haruhi responded immediately, "You can't dictate the moral right in that situation. Would you place the inherent worth of a child, who is deemed by society to be 'normal,'"–she made quotation marks in the air around her head—"over that of a person that you say, perhaps is genetically flawed?"

She paused, contemplating her next thoughts carefully.

"But you know, human circumstance is so wide range. It's full of grey shades." Then she added, "I can't judge them, I don't know their circumstances. Maybe some women simply don't want a child with a disability. But they may not have had the financial or emotional capability to raise a child that requires extra care. But..."

Her thoughts flashed quickly to her own mother.

"Some women may argue that they would not love their child any less, and would do anything for that child, regardless of whatever they may be endowed with," she finished.

The unanimous, silent contemplation held by the class did not last long as Blue Frames quickly interjected, "What if they baby would be born into a home environment that couldn't properly take care for it – provide it with adequate food and shelter? Could one argue that they may be better off dead?"

Haruhi caught the gaze of Blue Frames, and realized that his eyes were grey.

She shook her head in disagreement.

"The human capacity for growth and improvement is endless. Who's to say that the birth of this child would not force the mother to straighten up her lifestyle? Reach out to social support networks to help her...?" Haruhi began.

"But who's to say the birth of this child would even inspire that?" His voice became incredulous. "_What if this kid isn't even wanted?_" The words were wrought with personal experience. "It's not an environment any kid should be raised in. Just because he may have a roof over their head and food in his stomach doesn't mean he's not lacking in... Other aspects."

His voice held tones that spoke of quiet authority.

Haruhi was silent, all too aware of the implications his body language had given away.

Suddenly, binders shut and laptops put away. The clock had reached the hour, and the students were all too aware that the class just ended.

The professor quickly jumped in. "Great discussion, class; very interesting insights were pointed out today. All the notes discussed previous to the discussion are course materials that will be included in the final..." The profession's voice became muffled in the sounds of increased chatter and moving bodies.

As she put her books away, Haruhi was surprised at herself for the uncharacteristic contribution to class today. _This pregnancy is going to my head_, she concluded. Everything suddenly seemed more personal. This class discussion had opened a lot of thoughts and possibilities she had not even considered for her pregnancy.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a body crouched down low to her seated position. Blue Frames' face drew eye level to Haruhi.

Grey eyes encased in blue metal looked at her with curiosity. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he closed it as if changing his mind on what he was going to say.

"You know, I've never heard you speak in class. You're quite good with words." He smiled impishly.

Haruhi tilted her head slightly, slightly taken aback by his appearance. She shrugged in response to his comment. Then she said, "You were implying love, weren't you?"

A quiet amusement filled his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"When you were talking about 'other aspects,'" she quoted.

His face dimpled into an awkward smile; his lips scrunched to the far left of his face. He rested his arms on a pile of her texts on the desktop as he balanced on the balls of his feet.

"Yes. I was," he answered. His gaze wandered from the books resting under his arms to her face. He twirled his car keys in one hand absentmindedly as if in thought, then quickly pocketed the metal ring. Haruhi caught sight of the _Mercedes Benz_ insignia before it disappeared into his jacket pocket. "Referring to love, that is."

His eyes were rimmed in a darker steel circular outline, she observed.

Blue Frames cleared his throat, catching her attention.

"Haruhi-san, are you free at the moment? Would you like to get coffee with me?"

He smiled charmingly. Haruhi didn't pick up on the inflections of interest in his voice.

However, what Haruhi _did _notice was his crooked, lateral incisor.

---------------------

She stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth that evening. The toothbrush mechanically moved across her teeth and gums as she thought about the day's events.

Her ethics class had held an interesting discussion; one she felt she needed to hear on some inexplicable level. While the topic for that class had crossed her mind more than once for the duration of the day, the moral dilemma and ethics surrounding it had been her primary cause for concern.

She spat out the toothpaste; frothy white sploshes coloured her sink. She methodically washed her toothbrush underneath the running water as she rinsed her mouth with the other hand.

Abortion?

Adoption?

Did she even _want _this baby?

Was she ready for that responsibility? Was the even capable of raising this child? She wasn't religious in the sense that she feared a deity would strike her down, and then send her to a land of flame and brimstone should she go through with an abortion, but...

Was she ready financially? Emotionally? What about her education? Could she even finish law school?

The lack of solid companionship in her life suddenly became blindingly obvious. While she had never been the sort to confide in another, she wistfully thought about how much easier this could be if she had someone she could just _talk_ to.

Suddenly, she was all too aware of how lonely she actually was. Aside from Blue Frame's coffee _meeting_, she stressed to herself, she never participated in any social activities. Haruhi reckoned she was a rather boring person. She had never made friends in her classes. Nor did she eat lunch with anyone. Despite having attended the school for two years now, she had never expressed an interest in joining any clubs or organizations on campus. The most she had was enough volunteer commitments to meet the minimum amount needed for any future resumes or interviews.

She hadn't seen her friends from junior high in years. And as for the Host Club...

She hesitated.

It was probably better not to think about them, she resolved within herself, and pushed thinking about the group of men outside of her head. They had bigger things to worry about, and her pregnancy was the last thing she wanted to tell _any _of them about.

Haruhi scrubbed her hands clean with the blue bar of soap sitting on its tray.

As sad as it may have seemed, she supposed that the members of the Host Club were the closest set of people she _could _call 'friend.'

Her thoughts drifted.

What about her father?

She immediately rebuked the idea. All her father was allowed to know about were her finger nails.

Haruhi's mind deviated.

_The father._

Her face shifted into a steadfast expression, her eyebrows narrowing softy and her jaw tightening.

She pushed his face out of her head as she crawled into bed.

_He can't have anything to do with this_, she deliberated resolutely.

The soap's perfumed sandalwood scent permeated dreams of her walking down the street with a severely rounded belly.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

Isn't Haruhi ridiculous? She's remarkably intuitive to others, yet in regards to caring for herself, she's completely hopeless.

Hope you enjoyed!

**K.**

_Also:_ I'm looking for **a beta-reader** if anyone is interested. However, I'd like to get to know you a bit better if you're really inclined to beta. Leave a comment here, or more preferably on my blog if you want to get into a really good conversation.


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